Something's Not Right With Me
by IhaveAlotOfFeelings
Summary: Katniss finds out that she is pregnant after the victory tour comes to a close, how will the pair deal with this? following the story of catching fire.
1. We breath a little easier

It's been a while since the Victory has come to an end. The announcement of the quarter quell and the wedding are slowly approaching.

Since I've been home, I keep finding myself vomiting at random points of the day. It wouldn't be food poisoning, the capitol put me on what they call a "raw vegan diet" to get me in what they call "shape" for the wedding. I feel nausea constantly, getting bloated. taste of foods changing. But I just narrow it to the change of diet, environment and the stress of aftermath of the hunger games. Something deep inside of me stirs, I can't help but worry it's something else.

Since been home my mother and Prim have needed me, I think just to reassure themselves that I am home and alive. I haven't been comforted by Peeta after waking up from a nightmare since the victory tour. But tonight as I stare at the bland white ceiling in the late hours of the night, I can't resist the need for him. I put my slippers on and wrap my robe around me. I tiptoe out of the house and walk 3 houses down. I look up to what could only be his bedroom window, his home as the same layout at mine so I am already familiar with it. His light is still on, I let myself in and tiptoe into his room. Peeta looks up, not startled at all. As I seem him I go blank. No idea what I am suppose to say. All I can manage is "Hey."

That night I join Peeta in his bed, I nestle up to him and prepare for the nightmares that will surely follow me when I fall asleep. It feels like such a luxury sleeping with Peeta again. I didn't realize until now how starved I've been for human closeness. For the feel of him beside me in the darkness. I feel the texture of the sheets wrap around my legs and Peeta kisses my head. I feel the thoughts trapped inside my brain, wanting to be explored to find the truth of there cause.

"Peeta?" I whisper

"Yes?" he murmurs half asleep.

"I think somethings not right with me." I try to word it so it's as least dramatic as possible.

Peeta shoots up straight away. "Are you okay Katniss?" He almost yells.

"Calm down Peeta I'm fine, just worried." I say sternly. It's beginning to annoy me, how worked up he gets over me.

"Sorry.." he whispers calming his voice, "you scare me when you say stuff like that, what's wrong?"

"I'm not sure, and that's my problem. I thought it was just the aftermath of the games, and with everything changing so suddenly." I say softly.

"What do you mean?" he asks, I can hear the worry bubble up in his voice.

"I just find myself vomiting at random points of the day. I feel nausea all the time, and foods just don't taste the same."

Peeta pauses for a moment with extreme worry spreading across his face. "Katniss." He whispers running his fingers through his hair. "I think I know what's making you ill." he says in a unsteady tone.

I look up into his blue eyes and study his expression. He doesn't look scared, but a mixture of scared, fearful and almost, happy? but sad at the same time.

"What?" I mutter expecting Peeta to be melodramatic and think the worse.

"You could be..." he begins to form a sentence but seems to scared to finish it.

"Could be whaaat?" I groan

"Pregnant Katniss." he admits.

And just like that. I sit up and all the dots connect. 'Morning sickness' as my mother would say. I always thought the name was dumb, it happened at any time of the day. Food changes, bloating, nausea.

I look up at Peeta, He looks at though he is studying my expression, to try and grasp what I'm feeling. "You know I've always wanted children Katniss."

"I can't Peeta." I say cutting him off, my eyes start to water. Bringing a child into this world, as we're about to become mentors to tributes. Because if there's one thing being a victor doesn't guarantee, it's your children's saftey. My kids' names would go right into the reaping balls with everyone else's. And if President Snow is still in charge, I'm sure he will make certain that it will their name that is picked out.

"I know." He says softly. "But what I was about to say is that even though I want children, neither of us can handle this. I love you, and I want nothing more than to have a sweet family with you one day. And it kills me, but it isn't the right time. for either of us." he whispers with sadness filling his voice. "We are still adjusting to returning home, getting married just for Snows pleasure, we're both so young and still figuring out who we are." he adds. Neither of us say anything for a moment. "And plus, you wouldn't be able to fit into that wedding gown Cinna has made for you" he adds with a sweet laugh. I can't help but smile too. I'm surprised that Peeta concurs about the baby, but I understand why he does.

As the shock begins to lessen, I find myself cuddled back up to Peeta. "What are we suppose to do next?" I ask.

"First we have to make sure you are." He replies kindly.

"And if I'm not?" I question looking back up to him.

"We can both breath a little easier." He whispers giving me a reassuring squeeze.

I can't help but wonder what the future would be like if I were to be a mother. But isn't it the thing I dreaded most about the wedding, about the future - the loss of my children to the games? And it could be true now couldn't it? If I hadn't spent my life building up layers of defenses until I recoil at even the suggestion of marriage or a family.


	2. Help us

When I open my eyes, daylight's streaming through the windows. I feel okay until I remember what Peeta said last night. "Pregnant, Katniss." It replays within my head.

Peeta's already awake. "Morning" he murmurs with a small smile. "Prim was wondering were you went, but she knew you would've been with me."

"Oh." Is all I can make out.

"I also told the prep team you weren't up to dealing with them today. I let them know you'd reschedule."

"Thank you." I say in a whisper

"You should've seen them. They looked ragged. Knocking back coffee and sharing colored little pills. As far as I could tell, they've never got up before noon. I think they were thankful for us canceling on them." Peeta chuckles. I can't help but let out a small laugh too.

We lie there for a while, in no rush to begin the day. None of us mention last night, it least until Peeta sits up to begin getting ready. He takes a big yawn and extends his arms. Stretching I think. He turns to see my face. Probably taking in the bags under my eyes, that I'm sure the prep team will fret over it tomorrow.

"Katniss, we have to find out." I don't even ask what. I already know what he is insinuating.

"How?" I croak. The screams from my nightmares are taking their toll on my vocal cords. I cough to clear my voice. "I don't want anyone knowing."

Peeta leans back down, lying back beside me. "I understand Katniss" he whispers running his fingers gently through my hair. "But we need to find someone who can help us, to find out I mean."

"And after that, if I am anyway." I add sadly, at this point we are both whispering. Paranoid that someone could overhear us; even though we're home alone.

"Your Mother?" Peeta suggests

"No." I mutter bitterly. I could never discuss something like this with her, she didn't even want accept that fact that Peeta could be my boyfriend.

"Haymitch?" Peeta whispers, almost laughing.

"Okay." I say with surprise in my voice.

"I was kidding Katniss" He whispers.

"He is the only one both of us trust. He has helped us through everything else." I think back to when we stopped for fuel on the victory tour; and Haymitch took me out to the snow, so I could tell him everything. I remember how his face sobered after I told him about the visit from President Snow.

Peetas eyes widen when he realizes that I'm right. "When do we go?" He asks polietly.

"Right after I puke." I say rushing to the bathroom outside of Peetas room. I can hear him coming up behind me. As he goes to hold what I can only assume is my hair, I push him away. All this sickness makes me look weak, and fragile. Something I am not; despite of how scared I feel.

"Katniss, I don't think you're weakly." He says, seeing right through me. "I'm just trying to help." He adds nervously, walking out of the bathroom. By this time I'm already up and washing my face in the porcelain basin that sits beside the toilet.

I turn to Peeta in the bedroom as he picks out clothes to change into. "I'm scared Peeta." I admit shyly.

He looks up at me meeting my gaze. I can see fear clouded in his eyes too, "I know. Me too." He vocalizes with the fear not only in his eyes; but his voice also.

I meet Peeta outside of Haymitches house after I went home to see Prim and change into something more reasonable. He looks at me and tries to give me a reassuring smile "Ready?" He say gently, squeezing my hand. All I do is nod in reply.

We walk up the stairs into his victors village home, the stairs have weeds sprouting through them. Despite the care taken by the groundskeeper, it produces an air of abandonment and neglect. Peeta and I brace ourselves at the front door, knowing it'll be foul, then push inside.

My nose immediately wrinkles in disgust. Haymitch refuses to let anyone in to clean and does a poor job himself. Over the years the odors of liquid and vomit, boiled cabbage and burned meat, unwashed clothes and mouse droppings have intermingled into a stench that brings tears to my eyes. We wade through a litter of discarded wrappings, broken glass and bones to where we find Haymitch. He sits at the kitchen table, his arms sprawled across the wood, his face in a puddle of liquor, snoring his head off.

"Who wants to be the one to wake him up?" Peeta says cheerfully. I appreciate him trying to sound positive, but Peeta pretending to be cheerful is painful.

"I'll do the honors" I say in the same fake tone.

I nudge his shoulder "Get up!" I say loudly, because I've learned there's no subtle way to wake him. His snoring stops for a moment, questioningly, and then resumes. I push him harder. "Get up, Haymitch." I shout once more. Peeta stands on the other side of the table watching Haymitch; getting ready for the loud outburst we always find when he wakes up.

Haymitch is still dead to the world. Since nothing else has worked, I fill a basin with icy cold water, and before Peeta can object I dump it on his head, and spring out of the way. A guttural animal sound comes from his throat. He jumps up, kicking his chair a meter behind him and wielding a knife. I forgot he always sleeps with one clutched to his hand. I should have risen it from his fingers, but I've had a lot on my mind.

He begins spewing profanities but stops mid sentence when Peeta shouts at me "Katniss, we need him in a good mood!"

"I didn't know how else to wake him!" I shout back in frustration.

Haymitch wipes his face on his shirtsleeve and turns to us. "Need me in a good mood for what?" he sputters.

Peeta pulls out two glass bottles, with what would certainly only be liquor and places them on the table in front of him.

"That helps my mood" Haymitch says pulling over his filthy shirt, revealing an equally soiled undershirt, and rubs himself down with the dry part.

"Take a shower Haymitch." I try to sound nice and willing but it doesn't deliver that way.

"Because that'll sober me up" he yells out to us sarcastically as he walks towards the bathroom. I'm surprised it didn't take more fight to get Haymitch in the shower. Maybe he is doing it to repay Peeta for the liquor, by granting us this small request.

The nervousness chokes in my throat and stomach. "How are we going to do this Peeta?"

"I'll talk if you want." he asks, equally as scared but Peeta has always been better with words then I have.

"Thank you." I say with a sincere smile. The first one in weeks.

While Haymitch showers, Peeta and I don't say anything, just stare at his liquor. Peeta is probably trying to scramble his brain of what to say. Haymitch comes back in looking more clean and slumps down back into his chair. "Now what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" Haymitch says, impersonating Effie no doubt. He pours liquor into the coffee Peeta prepared while he was showering.

I look up to Peeta, I meet his eyes for less than a second before he avoids my gaze and looks down to the floor. "We need your help with something." he says nervously, almost to the point he stutters.

"With what?" He mumbles, "Mentor you to be mentors? Because I'm not drunk enough for that right now."

"Katniss is pregnant." Peeta blurts out. Turns out not he isn't that much better with words after all.

Haymitch bursts out laughing and slams his cup on he table before us. Shame isn't a strong enough word for what I feel.

"Well, we don't know for certain. I was hoping you could help us. You're the only person who can help us Haymitch." I plead.

"And you seriously have no one else?" Haymitch grunts

"No Haymitch. We don't. Please. We need you."

Peeta is still staring at the floor and Haymitch lets out a deep sigh. "Give me a minute, I think I might still have tests in the bathroom." He pushes himself up from the table and rubs his eyes.

"Tests? why would you have those" I say chuckling; even Peeta smiles.

"Once upon time I had someone I loved sweetheart..." He drifts off from his sentence and gazes out of the window, as if he is remembering something. The guilt pings inside of me, I should've known. The nerves intensify as I hear things falling out of cupboards and Haymitch shuffling around his bathroom.

He comes back throwing a box at me. I try to catch it; but his drunken throw misses me completely and falls to the floor, Peeta picks it up studying the pink-purply packaging. He reaches it out to me. As I get up he leans over kisses my cheek gently. "It'll be alright Katniss" He whispers.

I lock myself in Hayimitches bathroom trying not let my cries escape the door. Because of his refusal of letting people clean, the stench of his bathroom is worse than the rest of the house. The smells overwhelm my senses and I vomit into the toilet. I don't even get the luxury to open the door to let the less disgusting air I was adjusting to, in.

I scramble inside the box and extract instructions and a plastic white stick. I can barley read the instructions my hands are so shaky. But I manage to follow what I read. After I'm done I force myself up and take a deep breath. I put off leaving the bathroom because I know as soon as I do, my fate will be placed in front of me. But the stench in here is much worse then what my future could possibly hold.

I can hear talking as I come out, but they both stop when they see me. I wonder what they were discussing. I sit the test in the middle of the cracked, wooden table and sit back down. "I'm not reading it." I say bluntly. I couldn't force myself to physically do it, to confirm what I already know. Peeta looks at me and gives me a reassuring smile, like he did before we came in. But he doesn't pipe up to volunteer to read it either.

"Well I guess I have to then, don't I?" Haymitch says sharply. "You both survived the Hunger games. You'd think it least one of you would be brave enough to look at a damn stick."

Before I can retaliate and explain this is obviously more then a 'damn stick' he looks at me with a smile. One that I thought I would find great relief in, but I just find panic.

"Well sweetheart... hate to tell you, but you are infact pregnant."


	3. The read of the card

**A/N: A lot of this chapter is original dialect from the books. I like to include them in all my stories to keep the details to close to the characters personalities as possible. So disclaimer I don't own any rights to of the Hunger games Trilogy.**

My body reacts before my mind does and I'm running out of Haymitchs' soiled home, across the lawns of the Victors Village, into the dark beyond. Moisture from the sodden ground soaks my socks and I'm aware of the sharp bite of the wind, but I don't stop. Where? Where to go? The woods, of course. I'm at the fence before the hum makes me remember how very trapped I am. I back away panting, turn on my heel, and take off again. The next thing I know I'm curled away tucked up behind one of the empty houses in the Victors Village. As much I don't want to the pregnancy has made me exhausted. And I'd rather the nightmares haunt me than the thoughts that spin through my head.

I awaken to see the sunset. The sky is painted with soft oranges and yellows, the kind Peeta likes. I force myself up and stretch out my back. What a mess I have to fix. I hurry back out into the evening and into Haymitch's house.

He's sitting alone at his kitchen table, one of the bottles Peeta brought this morning is empty, the other almost finished too.

"Ah, there she is. All tuckered out. Finally did the maths, did you, sweetheart? Worked out you don't have the capacity to look after a baby?" he says as he takes another swig.

I don't answer. The window's wide open and the wind cuts through me just as if I was outside. "Peeta does." I finally admit.

"I know Katniss" he begins as if preparing a long argument. "He has been here on and off all day. Arguing with himself about it."

While I was wallowing around about a baby I can't have, thinking only of myself, he was here, thinking only of me. "He said he doesn't, he said he can't handle a baby right now, he said he wants one, one day, but not now." I retort.

"Katniss, do you even know the boy with the bread at all?" he pauses.

I take the clear bottle from this hand and take a couple of gulps before I come up choking. It takes a few minutes to compose myself, and even then my eyes and nose are still streaming. But inside me, the liquor feels like fire and I like it.

We stay here for a while, not saying anything but indulging in our own self pity. "Thanks" I say. I should go see Peeta now, but I don't want to. My head's spinning from the drink, and I'm so wiped out, I wouldn't want to tell him anything I don't mean. No, now I have to home to my mother and Prim.

As I stagger up the steps to my house, the front door opens and Peeta pulls me into his arms. "I'm sorry Katniss," he whispers.

"No Peeta, Don't. This is all my doing." I say. I'm having trouble focusing, and liquor keeps sloshing out of my bottle and down the back of Peeta's jacket, but he doesn't seem to care.

My knees give way and he's holding me up. As the alcohol overcomes my mind, I hear the glass bottle shatter on the floor. This seems appropriate since I have obviously lost my grip on everything.

When I wake up, I barley get to the toilet before the liquor makes a reappearance. It burns just as much coming up as it did going down, and tastes twice as bad. I'm trembling and sweaty when I finish vomiting, but it least most of the stuff is out of my system. I can't help but clutch my stomach before forcing myself into the shower.

Finally clean, I decide to head back to bed, ignoring my dripping wet hair. As I climb into bed the footsteps on the stairs renew my panic from last night. I don't know if I can face Peeta, I have to pull myself together to be calm and strong. I struggle into an upright position, push my wet hair away from my face, and brace myself for Peeta. He appears in the doorway holding a fresh loaf of bread, the smell makes my mouth water. He looks at me with worry and I open my mouth, planning to start off with some kind of joke, and burst into tears.

So much for being strong.

Peeta crawls up next to me and holds me, making quiet soothing sounds, until I am mostly all cried out. He gets a towel from the bathroom and dries my hair, combing out the knots. Peeta helps me into warm pajamas and layers blankets over me. "Thank you." I whisper. I look up to him, and I can tell as I study his expression that he wanted to say something and withdrew. "What were you going to say?" I ask softly.

"Nothing Katniss, it's irrelevant." He says as he kisses my forehead tucking me in.

"No. What?" I demand sitting back up.

"I was going to say you shouldn't drink." He bluntly says avoiding my gaze.

"Why?" I say becoming defensive. Why shouldn't I drink he isn't my mother. Then it hits me. I know what he would've said. I look up at to him as I answer my own question whispering under my breath. "because it's bad for the baby."

"We both agreed we weren't ready, so please just lets leave it." Peeta says soothing me back down to rest.

"Peeta." I whisper under my breath. I can't rationalize my thoughts in my brain so I just vocalize them in the hopes Peeta doesn't read too much into them.

"I don't want to be mother. I couldn't live with myself if she went into the hunger games. Just like we did. As much as I'd try there would always be a chance of her been reaped, Snow will make sure of it I'm sure. But even if he didn't, one ticket is all it would take. Just like it did for Prim. I physically couldn't mentor her. But I can't bare the thought of being responsible of another death. It would be my doing all over again. Sometimes I think it would be nice to raise a little girl if the games weren't real anymore. If the could just be a part of the past that we all forget about it. A little girl like Prim." I let out a deep sigh I didn't realize I was holding. I look up to Peeta to see him gentle face. I study his expression but I can't quite make it out.

"You think it's a she?" he questions. And of course out of that whole thing I just said, Peeta only asks about a tiniest detail.

I don't even have time to think about my answer before I blurt out, "Yes."

Peeta looks down and sighs. "Katniss, I will admit to you, I want this baby. I would love a little family of our own."

"Me too." I admit, I hate how unguarded all my words are becoming. But the realistic facts of the situation soon take over me. "But we can't Peeta" I add on, trying to be strong instead of vulnerable.

"I know Katniss." He says with disappointment riddling his voice. "So what do we do?" He asks repeating my words a couple of nights before.

"I think about it." I say quietly.

Peeta looks up at me, his expression saying it all. He never expected me to 'think about it' He knew how I felt about having children, and I think he is scared himself.

"Well you have all night" exclaims Peeta. "It's the reading of the card tonight."

Oh. The reading of the cards, the renouncement for the Quarter Quell.

At seven thirty Peeta heads off, to watch the Quarter Quell announcement with Haymitch. I gather around the television with Prim and my mother. For a while it's just annoying chatting about the wedding. Tonight the topic of choice is the gown Cinna is designing. "Let's get Katniss Everdeen to her wedding in style!" Ceaser Flickerman hollers to the crowd. "Now lets all give our attention to our one and only President snow!"

The screen then turns to the stage as the anthem plays. My throat tightens with revulsion as President Snow takes the stage. He's followed by a young boy dressed n a white suit, holding a simple wooden box. The anthem ends, and President Snow begins to speak, to remind us all of the dark days from which the Hunger Games were born. When the laws for the games were laid out , they dictated that every twenty-five years the anniversary would be marked by a Quarter Quell. It would call for a glorified version of the games to make fresh memory of those killed by the districts' rebellion.

"And now we honor our third Quarter Quell," says the president. The little boy in white steps forward, holding out the box as he opens the lid. The president removes the envelope inside, he runs his finger under the flap and pulls out a small square of paper. Without hesitation, he reads, "On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from there existing pool of victors."

My mother gives a faint shriek and Prim buries her face in her hands, but I feel more like the people I see in the crowd on the television. Slightly baffled. What does it mean? existing pool of victors?

Then I get it, what it means. At least for me. District 12 only has three existing victors to choose from. Two male and One female..

I'm going back into the arena. But this time it isn't just me, but the being that grows inside of me too.


	4. What about the baby?

I feel guilty for Peeta, hatred for the Capitol, sadness for my family. Frustration for the situation. I try to gather rational thoughts but so many emotions run throughout my body it's hard to keep them contained. I feel the screams bubble up inside me. _"No."_ I think. _"Don't hurt in front of Prim and your mother. You need to be strong for them."_

I throw on my jacket over my shoulders and slip the nearest pair of shoes I see on. My slippers. I work my way out of the house with no words at all. Walk three houses down and enter Peetas house. He is already home sitting in his arm chair, just starring at the kindling burning out. "Peeta!" I scream out for him, he looks up startled, but quickly regains himself and takes me tightly in his arms. His hand rests on the back of my head, stroking my hair and the other squeezing my back. Since my father died and I stopped trusting my mother, no one else's arms have made me feel this safe.

I can hear Peeta beginning to cry. He has so much strength in him, is breaks me that he will have to watch me die. There is 24 tributes going into the Arena, and either Peeta or Haymitch will be the one that walks out. All my feelings fight there way through and bubble in my throat. I can't help but let out a small cry. But as soon as I do the uncontrollable sobs follow.

We both find ourselves wrapped up within each other holding so tightly, I'm afraid to let go, because I may never get it back. I thought my time in the arena was done, my fight was over. I feel stiff but Peeta holds much warmth. My muscles relax, my heart rate slows. I see the wooden box in the little boy's hands, President Snow drawing out the yellowed envelope. Is it possible that this was really the Quarter Quell written down seventy-five years ago? It seems unlikely. It's just to perfect an answer for the troubles that face the capitol today. Getting rid of me and subduing the districts all in one neat little package.

I feels President Snow's voice in my head. _"On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from there existing pool of victors."_

Yes, victors are our strongest. They're the ones who survived the arena an slipped the noose of poverty that strangles the rest of us. They, or should I say we, are the very embodiment of hope where there is no hope. And now twenty-three of us will be killed to show even that hope was an illusion.

I'm glad I only won last year. Otherwise I'd know all the other victors, not just because I see them on television but because they're guests at every games. Even if they're not mentoring like Haymitch always has to, most return to the Capitol each year for the event. I think a lot of them are friends. Whereas the only friend I'll have to worry about killing will be either Peeta or Haymitch. _Peeta or Haymitch!_

I sit up straight, throwing off the sheeting. What just went through my mind? There's no situation in which I would ever kill Peeta or Haymitch. But one of them will be in the arena with me, and that's a fact. They may have even decided between them who it will be. Whoever is picked first, the other will have the option of volunteering to take his place. I already know what will happen. Peeta will ask Haymitch to let him go into the arena with me no matter what. For my sake and the baby's. To protect us.

I break out of my thought to see Peeta is finally asleep beside me. The fear and worry is painted all of his face, now that he is asleep he doesn't look more peaceful at all, like you would think. He is probably already been terrorized by nightmares.

I tip toe up and work my way over to Haymitches house. Just like the last time I prepare for the stench that will follow, but this is too important to waste time on smells. I brace myself and let myself in. He is still awake, barley, sitting upright on his couch. "Ahh Katniss, the girl on fire" Haymitch says sympathetically.

I don't bother small talk. "When it comes to the reaping maybe it should be you." I say matter-of-factly as I pull up a chair. "You hate life anyway."

"Very true," says Haymitch. "And since last time I tried to keep you alive... seems like I'm obligated to save the boy this time. Even though I know you're throwing around the idea of actually having the bread boys baby."

"How could you possibly-" I cut myself off. "Peeta." I grunt, frustrated.

"Peeta's argument is that since I chose you, I now owe him. Anything he wants. And what he wants is the chance to go in again and protect you." Says Haymitch.

"Peeta is the one that deserves to survive Haymitch. Not me, not you. Him." I say abruptly as I begin to cry.

"Don't begin the waterworks sweetheart, the cameras aren't here."

I can't help but smile a little. I missed the mockery, this conversation has been too serious. "So, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know." Haymitch sighs. "Go back in with you, maybe, if I can. If my name's drawn at reaping, it won't matter. He'll just volunteer to take my place."

We sit for a while in silence. "It'd be bad for you in the arena, wouldn't it? Knowing all the others?" I ask.

"Oh, I think we can count on it been unbearable wherever I am." He sighs trying to crack a smile.

"If it is Peeta and me in the games, this time we try to keep him alive."

Something flickers across his bloodshot eyes. Pain.

"Like you said, it's going to be hard no matter how you slice it. And whatever Peeta wants, it's his turn to be saved. We both owe him that." My voice takes on a pleading tone. "Besides, the capitol hates me so much, I'm as good as dead now. He might still have a chance. Please Haymitch. Say you'll help me."

He frowns at his bottle, weighing my words. "But what about the baby sweetheart?" He questions.

It takes me a minute to adjust. I was so involved in saving Peetas life I forgot about the other life. But I find great relief in that if I die, it will never have to grow to be reaped into the games, just like my nightmares predict. "She would've been reaped in the games someday, better she die in safety." I say.

"All right." Haymitch says as he takes a swig and I say thank you before walking back to Peeta's house. I feel like I can breathe a little easier now. Knowing Peeta will be safe. Safe to have a precious family on his own like he always wanted.

 **Not sure were to take this story, not sure what direction it will go. If you have any ideas, or inspo. LEASE P/M!**


	5. Pity

**A/N: So just to catch you guys up, I've skipped the period between last chapter and up until before the reaping, just because it didn't feel it circled enough around the theme of this fanfiction (the baby) but nevertheless I've tried to keep in as much detail as possible. This is also a short chapter because most of it is just dialect from the book. please review and enjoy :)**

The day of the reaping is hot and slurry. The population of District twelve waits sweaty and silent in the square, with machine guns trained on them. Everyone looks at me complete sadness and pity. Word had somehow slipped out about the baby.

When I told my mother she gave a faint shriek, similar to when the quarter quell was announced but much worse. Prim was shocked but completely supportive of course. But the happiness of becoming an aunt was stripped away from her when the thought of the quarter quell slipped into her mind. Gale took it the worst, which was to be expected. He cursed under his breath and walked off, probably sulking about it. Peeta told his family. His mother was fulled with anger and I assume she was the one who let word spread. After that, I refused to leave my house unless necessary, too many stares and questions, I couldn't handle it.

I stand alone in a small roped-off area with Peeta and Haymitch in a similar pen to the right of me. I try to hid it, but morning sickness is beginning to take over me. My face is turning pale but thankfully the pain of the reaping only takes a minute. Effie shining in a wig of metallic gold, lacks her usual verve. She has to claw around the girl's reaping ball for quite a while to snag the one peice of paper to that everyone already knows has my name on it. Then she catches Haymitch's name. He barley has time to shoot me a unhappy look before Peeta volunteers to take his place. We are immediately marched into the justice building to find Head Peacekeeper Thread waiting for us. I don't feel it coming, but just as I go to speak to Peeta I vomit into a dead plant that sits in the corridor. Peeta begins to rub my back when Thread roughly grabs me. "New procedure," he says with a smile. "Hey don't be so violent!" Peeta yells, with such aggression Peeta is pushed back by a masked guard. It isn't any use anyway, we're quickly ushered out of a back door and into a car and taken to the train station. There are no cameras on the platform, no crowd to send us on our way. Haymitch and Effie appear, escorted by guards. Peacekeepers hurry us all onto the train and slam the door. The wheels begin to turn, and my stomach turns too. I clutch my stomach, close my eyes and fall into a chair.

I open my eyes to see Effie looking at me with pity, she keeps looking at my stomach then back up at me _great_ I think sarcastically Effie knows now too. Not wanting to deal with her worried looks I force myself up and walk to my room. I think about what I would've said to everyone, if I could've said goodbye. I'd actually figured out what I wanted my last words to my loved ones to be. How best to close and lock the doors and leave them sad but safely behind. And now the Capitol has stolen that as well. I place my hand tenderly on my stomach, knowing I will never be able to bring her into a safe world. A world were she can be protected from the capitol and the games.

Pee ta begins to talk softly, "I'm not saying I'm not going to try. To get you home, but if I'm perfectly honest about it..."

"If you're perfectly honest about it, you think President Snow as probably given them direct orders to make sure we die in the arena anyway." I say

"It's crossed my mind." says Peeta.

It's crossed my mind too. repeatedly. But while I know the baby and I won't leave the arena alive, I'm still holding onto the hope that Peeta will. After all he didn't pull those berries out, I did.

"If President Snow knew about the baby, then maybe he would let you live." He says

"I don't want to tell _anyone_ Peeta. I can never have a child without you. I couldn't- I wouldn't." I object.

"If we don't make it out of the arena alive, everyone will know we've gone out fighting, right?" Peeta asks.

"Everyone will." I reply.

"How are we going to keep this from everyone?" Peeta asks.

"I don't know" I admit. "I think they'll find out anyway. The routine blood tests we have in the capitol will confirm it." I add softly.

Peeta thinks for a moment before adding. "It'll be okay Katniss." as the words leave his lips I feel something so terrifying it feels as old as life itself. Startled, I sit up and clutch my stomach in terror. "Katniss!" He says worried. "What's wrong?" he questions.

I look up at him in disbelief. "She moved Peeta."


	6. Making toast

**A/N: So this chapter is kind of boring, but I'm following the story line of actual Catching fire so I'm trying to include most of it. I'm skipping some of the book because it isn't that relevant to the fanfic. Hope you enjoy. Will be upddating soon!**

 **DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN OR CLAIM ANY RIGHTS TO THE HUNGER GAMES TRIOLGY ALTHOUGH I FUCKING WISH I DID BECAUSE I FUCKING LOVE THEM LMAO.**

Effie shows up a bit early to take us to the training center because last year, even though we were on time we were the last two tributes to show up. But Haymitch tells her he doesn't want her taking us down to the gym. None of the other tributes will be showing up with a baby sitter, and being we're the youngest it's even more important to look self reliant. So she has to satisfy herself with taking us to the elevator, fussing over our hair, and pushing the button for us.

When the doors close I allow my shoulders to relax and all the emotions bubble up. I sink down to the bottom of the elevator and onto the floor. Peeta puts his hands reassuringly on my shoulder and lean onto his knee as he stands. "I can't do this Peeta" I say trying to swallow the tears back.

"Do what Katniss?" He questions.

"I can't carry this baby. I can't fight anymore. I just want you to live, I want you to win. But I can't. The fight is to much." I say. I look weak and broken Like I did after the first games, but I am admitting defeat now.

Peeta squats beside me. "You can Katniss. You can do this, don't let them make you a piece in their games." He says smiling. I can't help but smile back at the words _piece in their games_. Like on the roof top of the training center before the first games. I slide myself up from the floor and Peeta squeezes my hand reassuringly.

Effie needn't have worries about being the last to arrive. Only half of the tributes have shown up. Atala, the women who runs training, begins her spiel right on time, unfazed by the poor attendance. Maybe she expected it. I'm sort of relieved, because that means there are a dozen people I don't have to pretend to make friends with. Atala runs through the list of stations, which include both combat and survival skills, and releases us to train. I tell Peeta I think we'd do best to split up, thus covering more territory.

"Katniss, I don't think it's a good idea. We don't know what any of these people are like, we've only see there tapes of them in the games and that doesn't show a good reflection on anyone's personality."

I try to crack a joke to relieve Peeta so I put my hand on my stomach and say "I'm not completely on my own, I'll be fine." I smile to Peeta but he has his mouth half open not smiling at all. After a few seconds I understand why and the anger towards myself grows too large. That is my weakness. Peeta, I get so caught up with infatuation with him that I forget that I'm not alone. I realize that half the tributes have heard and now staring at me without blinking, probably in shock.

We both look at each other before trying to forget the past moment. Peeta goes off to chuck spears with Brutus and Chaff, and I head over to the knot tying station. Hardly anyone bothers to visit it. I like the trainer and he remembers me fondly, maybe because I spent time with him last year. He's pleased when i show him I can still set the trap that leaves an enemy dangling by a leg from a tree. Clearly he took note of my snares in the arena last year and now sees me as an advanced pupil, so I ask him to review every kind of knot that might come in handy and a few that I'll probably never use. I'd be content to spend the morning alone with him, I can put all of my concentration into knot tying and distract myself from the gossip that is certainly spreading around the training center like a contagious rash. But after about an hour and half, someone puts his arms around me from behind, his fingers easily finishing the complicated knot I've been sweating over. Of course it's Finnick Odair, who's seems to have spent his childhood doing nothing but wielding tridents and manipulating ropes into fancy knots for nets, I guess.

"Hey girl on fire, heard you and the boy with bread are making toast." He says with a smirk.

"Finnick if you'd believe all the rumors you heard about me then you would know I have a secret son with one of the game makers." I say sarcastically rolling my eyes.

"I would've assumed it was a rumor if only today wasn't the first time I've heard it" He says with his arms crossed. I grit my teeth trying to come up with some kind of sarcastic come back but he pats my stomach and walks off before I can say anything.

I glance around the training center. Peeta is at the center of a ribald circle of knife throwers. The morphlings from district 6 are in the camouflage station, painting each others faces with bright pink swirls. The male tribute from District 5 is vomiting wine on the sword-fighting floor. Finnick and the old women from his district are using the archery station. Johanna Mason is naked again and oiling her skin down for a wrestling session. I decide to walk over to a Vacant station where tributes can learn to make fires. The two tributes form District 3 are beside me, struggling to start a decent fire with matches. I think about leaving but the two tributes make decent company, they don't mention the baby or Peeta at all in fact. They seem friendly and don't pry like a lot of the others.

When lunch is announced I look for Peeta, he's is hanging out with a group of about, ten other victors. I decide to eat alone but Peeta spots me and walks over to me.

"So have you heard anything from the other tributes?" Peeta whispers to me, careful not to let anyone hear our conversation.

"Other then Finnick, no one, why?" I ask looking up to him.

Peeta looks genuinely surprised with my answer, "lucky you. Everyone won't leave me alone." he pauses sitting down. "They keep asking if you're pregnant, how far along you are, that sort of thing."

"What do you say?" I ask some what defensively.

"I try to brush it off and divert the conversation, but some of these victors are persistent." He says staring down at the lunch places in front of him.

I look down at my lunch and the smell of gravy is enough to make me feel nauseated. But it hits me I haven't eaten today so I put the effort in to have it least one mouthful of food. The smells stirs in my stomach and brings it straight back up. I have the decency to vomit in the trash can beside me though. Peeta comes over and rubs my back and tries to soothe me by telling me it's okay. "Yeah sure, because this will make the rumors go away." I say sarcastically.

After the aftermath of lunch I don't want to be sociable but Haymitch's words hang heavy in my ears, _"You're at a distinct disadvantage. Your competitors have known each other for years So who do you think they're going to target first?"_ Thinking of only Peeta and his survival, I go over to Cashmere and Gloss, the sister and brother from District one who invites me over to make Hammocks for a while. They're polite but cool, and I spend a whole time thinking about how I killed both the tributes from there district, Glimmer and Marvel, last year, and that they probably knew them and might have even been there mentors. Both my hammock and attempt to connect them are mediocre at best. They mention the baby, but I try to do what Peeta suggested and brush it off.

I join Enobaria at sword training and exchange a few comments, but after she mentions been pregnant is a weakness it's clear she doesn't want to be allies. Finnick appears again when I'm picking up fishing tips, but mostly just wants to introduce me to Mags, the elderly women who's also from district 4. Between her District accent and her garbled speech - possibly she's had a stroke - I can't make out more then four words. But I swear she can make a decent fish hook out of everything - a thorn, a wishbone, an earing. After a while I tune out the trainer and simply try to copy whatever Mags does. When I make a pretty good hook out of a bent nail and fasten it to some strands of my hair, she gives me a smile and an unintelligible comment, I think it might be a praise, but she stares at my stomach the whole time so It might've just been something about the baby. Suddenly I remember how she volunteered to replace the young, hysterical women in her district. It couldn't have been because she thought she had any chance of winning . She did it to save the girl, just like I volunteered last year to save Prim. And I decide I want her on my team.

Great. Now I have to go back to tell Haymitch I want an eighty-year-old and Nuts and Volts for allies. He'll love that.


	7. Perfect Father

**A/N: Okay to catch you up. I have decided to jump ahead to the end of the training and focus on the roof scene because I feel this is an opportunity to talk more about what Peeta and Katniss plan to do about the baby. I hope you Enjoy :0**

 **DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN OR CLAIM AND RIGHT TO THE HUNGER GAMES TRIOLGY EVEN THOUGH I FUCKING WISH I DID LMAO.**

We lie there for a while in no rush to start the day. Tomorrow night will be the televised interview, so today Effie and Haymitch should be coaching us. _More high heels and sarcastic comments_ I think. But then a red headed Avox girl comes in with a note from Effie saying that, given our recent tour, both she and Haymitch have agreed we can handle ourselves adequately in public. The couching sessions have been cancelled.

"Really?" says Peeta, taking the note from my hand gently and examining it. "Do you know what this means? We'll have the whole day to ourselves."

"It's too bad we can't go somewhere" I say wistfully.

"Who says we can't?" he asks.

The roof. We order a bunch of food, grab some blankets, and head up to the rood for a picnic. Just as I go to join Peeta, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and stop. I look at myself and examine my messy exterior. I've always been skinny, my ribs always poking out but my stomach has begun to become plump. It bothers me because I know why; I just don't want to face the truth. Since it has been a couple weeks since training started I guess it would make sense. I never realized it before. I guess there's no point disappointing the gossip now.

A daylong picnic in the flower gardens that tinkles wind chimes. We eat. We lie in the sun. I snap off hanging vines and use my new found knowledge from training to practice knots and weave nets. Peeta sketches me. We make up a game with the force field that surrounds the roof – one of us throws an apple into it and the other person has to catch it.

No one bothers us. By late afternoon, I lie with my head on Peetas lap, make a crown of flowers while he fiddles with my hair, claiming he's practicing knots. After a while his hands goes still.

"What?" I ask

"I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now, and live it forever." He says.

I feel so warm and relaxed and beyond thinking about the future I'll never have, so I let the words slip out. "Me too."

"I'm sorry Katniss" He says beginning to run his fingers through my hair once more.

"Why?" I ask.

"Because there's no point denying that, it's going to be one of us walking out of that arena and despite what President Snow wants, it'll be you and the baby." He says softly.

I sit up now and look into his blue eyes clouded with hurt and worry. "I know the last time we spoke about this was when we were on the train on our way here, but I don't want you to forget what I said. I can't do this without you. The only reason I ever even considered having this baby, was that I knew you would be there to raise her with me. I have doubts of having children but I find relief in knowing that you will be a perfect Father." I pause wiping the tears from my face. "But that's all been taken away now, because of those stupid berries. I wish I had just died in that arena like I was suppose too." I say sobbing uncontrollably now.

Peeta leans my head back onto his lap "Shhh its okay Katniss. It'll be okay, let's stop talking about because it'll kill us both before the games even start." He says in a soft soothing tone.

I can feel my eyelids becoming heavy and drawing me into sleep. Before I do I say, "I wish we lived in a world where the hunger games wasn't real and we could somewhere were our child could be safe." Peeta says something but I don't catch it as I doze off.

Peeta rouses me to see the sunset. It's a spectacular yellow and orange blaze behind the skyline of the capitol. "I didn't think you'd want to miss it." He says.

"Thanks." I say. Because I can count on my fingers the number of sunsets I have left, and I don't want to miss any of them.

We don't go and join the others for dinner, and no one summons us.

"I'm glad. I'm tired of making everyone around me so miserable." Says Peeta. "Everybody crying. Or Haymitch. . ." He doesn't need to go on.

We stay on the roof until bedtime and then quietly slip down to my room without encountering anyone. The next morning we're roused by my prep team. The sight of Peeta and I sleeping together is too much for Octavia, because she bursts into tears right away. "You remember what Cinna told us." Venia says fiercely. Octavia nods and goes out sobbing.

Peeta has to return to his room for prep, and I'm left alone with Venia and Flavius. The usual chatter has been suspended. In fact there is little talk at all, other than them have me raise my chin or comment on a make-up technique. It's nearly lunch when I feel something dripping on my shoulder and I turn to find Flavius, who's snipping away at my hair with silent tears running down his face. Venia gives him a look and he gently sits the scissors on the table and leaves. Then it's just Venia. Whose skin is so pale her tattoos appear to be leaping off it. Almost rigid with determination, she does my hair and nails and make-up, fingers flying swiftly to compensate for her team mates. The whole time she avoids my gaze and stomach.

It's only when Cinna shows up to approve me and dismiss her that she takes my hand, glances at my stomach and looks me straight in the eye, and says, "We would all like you to know what a . . . privilege it has been to make you look your best.

It's certain from Venia's last words that we all know I won't be returning. _Does the whole world know it?_ I wonder. I look at Cinna. He knows certainly. But as he promised, there's no danger of tears from him.

"So, what am I wearing tonight?" I ask eyeing the garmet bag that holds my dress.

"I'll show you soon. But you have a visitor that would like to speak to you." Cinna says sharply. I look at Cinna puzzled, but his expression is blank. He swiftly leaves the room and leaves me on my own. I sit down in the stiff chair and let myself relax. But it only takes a second for my muscles to tense back up when none other then President Snow walks through the door.


	8. If it weren't for the baby

**A/N: Please review! Hope you enjoy, next chapter will be up soon! :)**

 **DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN OR CLAIM ANY RIGHT TO THE HUNGER GAMES TRILOGY EVEN THOUGH I WISH I FUCKING DID BECAUSE ITS FABULOUS LMAO**

I stare into his snakelike eyes. What could he be doing here? It's only the tributes and Ceaser in the interviews. Even in preparation it's only ever the tribute with their mentor, escorts or stylists. I have never heard of President Snow making appearances. If he has made the effort to come to see me, it only can mean one thing. I am in serious trouble. And if I am, so is my family. A shiver goes through me when I think of Prim at home in District 12, unaware of the circumstances I've put her in.

"Hello Miss Everdeen, what a pleasure it is to see you again." He says sitting himself in one of the curved, straight-backed chairs.

"Please, the pleasure is mine." I say trying to sound relaxed in my tone.

"Well, Miss Everdeen. If you remember the last time we spoke, I asked you to convince me, after not all of the Districts fell in love with your school girl love story after the 74th Hunger games." He looks at me and I nod. "According to your blood tests, you convinced me more then I had anticipated."

My stomach drops and the smell of blood and perfume that drowns him is overwhelming. _He knows._ I swallow hard and say "What does this mean for me?" I say drawing back eye contact.

"Well that depends." He says.

"On what?" I ask

"Unfortunately the gossip seems to swell across the training center quicker than anyone would like, but if you can simply keep this is as gossip and not capitol news, I'm sure there won't be a problem."

"Last time we spoke President Snow, you asked me not only to convince the Districts but _you_ also. I am sure I have kept this promise with the recent _'gossip.'_ Wouldn't this persuade the Districts to certainty?" I ask.

There's a long pause while he examines me. Then he simply says, "I told you Panem was fragile, but not in the way that you suppose."

"Is this so you can prevent an uprising in the Capitol? Surely the retaliation of sending a pregnant woman into the hunger games would be catastrophic." I blurt out.

"Ah yes Miss Everdeen, you see my dilemma." He says adjusting his coat.

"Why would you think I would agree to follow your request when the cards are in my favor?" I question.

"Well Miss Everdeen. Consider this; if you were to deem what I am asking of you, manageable. Then I can try to spare the life of your star crossed lover." He says pushing himself up from his chair. I don't watch him as he slips out the door.

The smell of Blood. . . it was on this breath. _What does he do?_ I think. _Drink it?_ I imagine him sipping it from a tea cup. Dipping a cookie into the stuff and pulling it out dripping red. I attempt to shake his carefully placed words from my head and try to focus on my interview and what I will be wearing tonight. I never planned to say anything about the baby, so I'm glad I can use this to my advantage.

Cinna walks back in and shakes his head at me as if requesting me not to say anything. The suspicion of been watched grows greater. He unzips the bag, revealing one of the wedding dresses I wore for the photo shoot. Heavy white silk with a low neckline and tight waist and sleeves that fall from my wrists to the floor. And pearls. Everywhere pearls. Stitched into the dress and ropes at my throat forming the crown of the veil. "Even though they announced the Quarter Quell the night of the photo shoot, people still voted for their favorite dress, and this was the winner. The President says you're to wear it tonight. Our objections were ignored."

Cinna helps me carefully into the gown. As it settles on my shoulders, they can't help giving a shrug of complaint. "Was it always this heavy?" I ask. I remember several of the dresses being dense, but this one feels like it weighs a ton. I feel Cinna tug on the buttons and zip towards the back. I hear a quiet groan as I feel the dress will not zip up. Cinna lets out a huge sigh, "It's not zipping up."

I know why. Because of the bump that rests underneath this dress. I stare down at my feet unsure what to say. "What do we do?" I mumble.

Cinna looks at the back and ponders carefully. "I'm not sure, give me a moment." He says trying on the zip one last time before leaving the room.

As soon as he leaves the room, I am no longer distracted and President Snow's words drown out my entire being. _"I told you Panem was fragile, but not in the way that you suppose."_ They don't drown me for long though. Cinna walks back in and Venia and Flavius, they both eye me off like I am some kind of art sculpture. "Well we don't have enough time to order in a new dress, what do you exactly suppose we do Cinna?" Venia asks nervously. "Our only option is to cut the zip out and sew a corset back in." He says sternly. "Just hope we have enough time before the interview." He adds softly. Venia and Flavius peel the dress off me slowly and give me a silk robe for in the meantime. I sit back down in the arm chair and wait patiently. I watch up to the screen to see Ceaser Flickerman. He talks to the crowd about how important the Quarter Quell is; and how exciting it is to see the tributes again. Just as he goes to speak to a reporter in District One, Peeta walks through the door. Peeta's in an elegant tuxedo and white gloves. The sort of thing grooms wear to get married in, here in the Capitol.

Back home everything is so much simpler. A woman usually rents a white dress that's been worn hundreds of times. The man wears something clean that's not mining clothes. They fill out some forms at the Justice Building and are assigned a house. Family and friends gather for a meal or a bit of cake, if it can be afforded. Even if they can't, there's always a traditional song we sing as the new couple crosses the threshold of their home. And we have our own little ceremony, where they make their first fire, toast a bit of bread, and share it. Maybe it's old fashioned, but no one really feels married in District 12 until after the toasting.

"Wow if that's what you're wearing for your interview, boy do I feel over dressed." Peeta laughs.

I smile back in return. "Well my dress didn't fit, their altering it, hoping in the nick of time." I say bitterly, frustrated at my situation.

"Oh." Is all Peeta says sitting down next to me. "Any plans for your interview?" Peeta asks in an attempt to fill the empty silence.

"No, this year I'm just winging it. The funny thing is I'm not nervous at all." And I'm not. However much President Snow may hate me, this Capitol audience is mine.

When the anthem plays we both look up to the screen. He has done his opening spiel and the tributes begin their interviews. This is the first time I realize the depth of betrayal felt among these victors, and the rage that accompanies it. But they are so smart, so wonderfully smart how they play it, because it all comes back to reflect on the government and President Snow in particular. Not everyone. There are old throwbacks like Brutus and Enobaria, who are just here for another games, and those to baffled or drugged or lost to join in on the attack. But there are enough victors who have the wits and the nerve to come out fighting.

Their up to the Female District 5 tribute when Cinna come back following with Venia holding up my dress. Peeta leaves to give me privacy to get changed, even though it seems pointless because he has seen me completely naked after all. But been courteous, he does it anyway. They help me carefully into the dress once more, this time with much more confidence in the fitting.

Once I am completely in the gown, I walk to the foyer under the stage were the other tributes have gathered and talking softly. When I arrive, they fall silent. I realize they're staring daggers at my dress. Are they jealous of its beauty? The power it might have to manipulate the crowd? I'm confused because, while they are all angry, some are giving Peeta and I sympathetic pats on the shoulder, and Johanna Mason actually stops to straighten my pearl necklace. "Make him pay for it, ok?" She says. I nod but I don't understand what she means.

By the time I am introduced, the audience is an absolute wreck. People have been weeping and collapsing and even calling for change. The sight of me in my bridal gown practically causes a riot. No more star crossed lovers living happily ever after, no more wedding. I can see even Creaser's professionalism showing some cracks as he tried to calm the audience down so I can speak; my three minutes are ticking away quickly. My interview goes rather quickly. We briefly discuss my dress and how they won't be able to see the wedding and what a tragedy it all seems.

As I pass Peeta who's headed to his interview, he doesn't meet my eyes. I take my seat carefully and turn my attention to him. Ceaser and Peeta have been a natural team since they first appeared together a year ago. Their easy-give-and-take comic timing, and ability to segue into heart-wrenching moments, like Peeta's confession of love for me, has made them a huge success with the audience. They effortlessly open with a few jokes about fires and feathers and over cooking poultry. But anyone can see that Peeta is preoccupied, so Ceaser directs the conversation right into the subject that is on everybody's minds.

"So Peeta, what was it like when, after all you've been through, you found out about the Quell?' asks Ceaser.

"I was in shock. I mean, one minute I'm seeing Katniss looking so beautiful in all these wedding gowns, and the next . . ." Peeta trails off.

"You realized there was never going to be a wedding?" Ceaser asks gently.

"Yes." Peeta admits, still looking preoccupied.

"I have to confess, despite the Quarter Quell, I'm glad you two had at least a few months of happiness together."

Enormous applause. As if encouraged, I look up from my dress and let the audience see my tragic smile of thanks. "I'm not glad," says Peeta.

This taken even Ceaser aback. "Surely even a brief time is better than no time?"

"Maybe I'd think that to, Ceaser," Peeta says bitterly, "if it weren't for the baby."


	9. He wouldn't of tried anyway

**A/N: Just following after the interview and the night before the game. Hope you enjoy, please review** **J**

 **Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN OR CLAIM ANY RIGHT TOT EH HUNGER GAMES TRIOLOGY. I WISH I DID THOUGH LMAO**

There. He's done it again. Dropped the bomb that wipes out the efforts of every tribute who came before him. Well, maybe not. Maybe this year he only lit the fuse on a bomb that the victors themselves have been building. Hoping someone would be able to detonate it. Perhaps thinking it would be me in my bridal gown. Not knowing how much I reply on Cinna's talents, whereas Peeta needs nothing more than his words.

But this bomb, didn't just wipe the contestants but himself in the process. Snow will ensure I face consequences for this. He is probably under the assumption I put Peeta up to it. Not only will I die in that arena but I've lost the chance at saving the boy with the bread, the only wish I've had all along. The backlash of his statement is crazy destructive. It sends accusations of injustice and barbarism and cruelty flying out in every direction. Even the most Capitol-loving, Games-hungry, bloodthirsty person out there can't ignore, at least for a moment, how horrific the whole this is.

Peeta has told the whole of Panem, I'm pregnant.

Ceaser can't rein in the crowd again, not even when the buzzer sounds. Peeta nods his goodbye and comes back to his seat without anymore conversation. I can see Ceaser's lips moving but the place is in total chaos and I can't hear a world. I sense Peeta reaching out for me. Tears run down his face as I can take his hand. And as soon I do, I feel the tears run down my face too. Is this an acknowledgment that he has been stalked by the same fears I have? That every Victor has? Every parent in every district of Panem?

Once the anthem plays we're escorted off the stage and have to stumble to the training center. Peeta guides me into an elevator and we shoot upwards on our own.

The moment we step out of the elevator, Peeta grips my shoulders tightly. "There isn't much time, so tell me. Is there anything I need to apologize for?" Then I remember my encounter with President Snow and my stomach drops and the horrific sadness collapses over my body and I let out an ugly cry. Peeta opens his arms and I immediately follow into them. "What Katniss, what is it? I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't of. But it was my last opportunity to try and stop the games." He says softly. Peeta pulls me into his room. "Katniss speak to me" he says cupping my face brushing hair out my face.

"I saw President Snow before the interview." I croak out.

"What did he say? Why was he there?" he asks persistently.

"He said if it got out to the capitol that I was pregnant, he would ensure your death." I sob.

"Oh my god Katniss." He says gasping with his hand over his mouth in disbelief. "Okay. We just need to keep it together for a little longer. Just say goodbye to everyone and then we can go to bed and talk about this." He says wiping his face on his shirt. I nod and wipe my face with my hand, trying not to smudge my makeup.

We walk out and we arrive in the nick of time, because the elevator opens just as we sit. But I'm surprised when only Haymitch walks out. "It's madness out there. Everyone has been sent home."

Peeta and I hurry over to the window and try to make sense of the commotion far below us on the streets.

"What are they saying?" Peeta asks. "Are they asking the President to stop the games?"

"I don't think they know themselves what to ask. The whole situation is unprecedented. Even the idea of opposing the Capitol's agenda is a source of confusion for the people here." Says Haymitch. "But there's no way Snow would cancel the Games. You know that right?"

I do. Of course, he could never back down now. The only option left to him is to strike back, and strike back hard. For a while we just stand there in silence, delaying the inevitable. Then Haymitch says it. "I guess this is where we say our goodbyes as well."

"Any last words of advice?" Peeta asks.

"Stay alive," Haymitch says gruffly. That's almost an old joke with us now. He gives us each a quick embrace, and I can tell it's all he can stand. "Go to bed. You need your rest, especially you Katniss."

I know I should say a whole bunch of things to Haymitch, but I can't really think of anything he doesn't already know, really, and my throat is so tight I doubt anything would come out, anyway. So, once again I let Peeta speak for us both. "You take care Haymitch," He says.

We cross the room, but in the doorway, Haymitch's voice stops us. "Katniss when you're in the arena," he begins. Then he pauses. He's scowling in a way that makes me sure I've already disappointed him.

"What?" I ask defensively.

"You just remember who the real enemy is," Haymitch tells me. "That's all. Now go on. Get out of here."

We walk down the hallway. Peeta wants to stop by his room to shower off the make-up and meet me in a few minutes, but I won't let him. I'm certain that if a door shuts between us, it will lock and I'll have to spend the night without him. Besides, I have a shower in my room. I refuse to let go of his hand.

Once Peeta is out of the shower and in pajamas he sits on the end of the bed, facing me curled up at the bed head. "Please tell me what happened. Word for word." He says gently.

I try and recoil my memory and summon the energy to speak. "President Snow came in, just as I was supposed to get into my dress. He sat down and told me the last time he saw me he asked me to convince the districts because they didn't believe our love story." I pause looking up.

"Yes, I remember. What did he say about the baby?" Peeta asks softly.

"Well," I continue. "He said that I have convinced more that he thought. That I can't let it become public news and keep it as gossip."

"Why?" Peeta asks capitol.

"He was afraid what the backlash of sending a pregnant woman into the games would cause." I pause studying Peeta's expression carefully. "He said if I kept it at the status of gossip, he would try and save you." I say without breaking eye contact from him.

"Katniss" he whispers under his breath. "It doesn't matter anymore. I don't think he would've tried anyway." He says speaking up this time in an attempt to comfort me.

Do we sleep? I don't know. We spend the night holding each other and the occasionally kissing. We sit in some half way land between dreams and waking. Not talking. Both afraid to disturb the other in the hope we'll be able to store up a few precious minutes of rest.


End file.
